Deaths Worse then Fate
by Spazz Cat
Summary: Set during the Siege of Earth, the Covenant will discover that humans in strange armors are not all they should be worried about, as ghosts from the past rise to claim the living to slake a vengeful blood lust. Halo/FEAR crossover. M, 'cause the games are
1. Chapter 1

**Deaths worse then fate**

**Interval 01: Inception**

The Date was October 4th, 2552; two days after the Covenant had invaded Earth. Fighting was spread across the globe, and New Mombassa was not the only target attacked. Although Regret was gone, Covenant forces still existed. One such group was lead by a Minor Prophet named the Prophet of the Departed. His legions had landed within the American Protectorate: the name for the government that had combined South and North America, Mexico, and Canada into one super-nation.

The city they had landed in, Neo Chicago, was a surreal war-zone. Entire city districts were reduced to burned and charred rubble. Still others were un-touched by the fighting, either having no importance to either side or being an utter loss to defend. The old section of Neo Chicago, parts of the original city, now had new names; Historic Chicago, the Arts & Crafts District, and the Auburn District. Historic Chicago held the pride of Old Chicago, it was the up-town section and held many historic significances to it's people. The A&C District was a whole district of theaters, art shops, bazaars, and beautiful apartments. Auburn was the slums of Old Chicago, always too costly or not profitable to tear down. Not many lived in Auburn to begin with; the population had dropped drastically two years before. When the Covenant came, they found little more then rats, long abandoned buildings, and an unshakeable sense of dread.

While the fight raged on in Neo Chicago, another battle was taking place. The Covenant first found the indications of these new problems when they discovered Human recon and assault teams slaughtered, but not by plasma or needler fire as they expected. No, these humans were killed with the primitive projectile weapons they were so fond of…

"Hey, Joe! Over here!" Two marines from the UNSC made a sweep of a previously unchecked warehouse area. One recon team had reported possible Covenant contacts in the area, so now it was time to make a thorough search.

"What's up?"

"Come and see for yourself man." The two looked inside one of the large warehouses to find rows of people. Four different uniforms could be seen, and they all appeared to be sleeping standing up.

"What the… Are they asleep?"

"They can't be dead. Dead people don't stand up like that."

There were three rows of 10 people, the first wearing a gray/black cameo uniform with something akin to a black motorcycle helmet, the second wearing solid gray with a red visor strip over their eyes and gray ski mask covering the rest of their features, the third also in a gray/black uniform but with a gas mask instead of helmet. In the back stood two others, black uniforms with red trim, shoulders, and body armor with a red hood over their heads and white masks set onto their faces, the eyes of which glowed orange.

All of them were armed with either shotguns, assault rifles, or SMGs, and would have looked quite threatening save for the fact that they all held the guns loosely in their right hands, were slouched over, and their heads appeared to be looking somewhere around their booted toes.

"What the heck? These are old Rakow G2A2s'!" The marine identified as Joe pulled one of the assault rifles out of the 'sleeping' soldiers limp grip. The other marine wandered into the back of the soldiers and approached one of the two strange men.

"Hello? You boys awake?" The second, Steve, came right up to one of the pair and pulled up his head.

"Hey, can you hear me?" The soldier in question stood limply, not answering.

"Come on, you awake under there?" Steve reached up and pulled the mask off with a little pop. Under it was a typical human face, jaw limp and eyes unfocussed.

"Are they drugged?" The marine known as Steve looked away for an instant, and in that instant the Unknown Soldier blinked. His eyes snapped into focus and locked onto the marine in front of him like lasers. The first indication Steve had of the soldiers awakening was said soldiers fist driving his fingers like a spear into the surprised marines' trachea. Steve was propelled backwards, gagging and trying to get air moving again. Joe heard the noise and looked up as the rows of soldiers awoke, snapping to arms.

"Holy sh-" Joe never finished his sentence, as the soldiers in front of him opened fire and ended his life.

Steve lay on the ground, making gagging noises as he tried to re-open his windpipe. The soldier who had done him that injustice picked his mask off the ground from where Steve had dropped it and set it back on his face. The impassive figure glanced over to where Steve lay choking, took brief aim with his rifle and splattered brain matter on the concrete. The first two interlopers down, the soldiers rushed out of the warehouse and into some nearby trucks. Their commander had finally called them, and there was work to be done.

"Commander?" The squeaky voice of a Grunt reached the ears of one Eta Nogal'mee. The buff Sangheili looked down to the diminutive Unggoy that had interrupted his thoughts.

"We find something on street. Group of humans, but they not look like ones we see before. They not very nice looking, and there be the humans we remember dead around them."

Eta cocked an invisible eyebrow at the little Grunt. "Show me."

The Unggoy lead the field commander to the window where the strange humans could be seen from a safe distance. Sure enough, there was a group of humans wearing armor that Eta had never seen before. And the humans that Eta had fought on several occasions lay dead around them. No plasma burns on the corpses, but holes from the projectile weapons. Nogal'me mused at this odd turn of events.

"See something interesting?" Eta started as the Sangheili Black Op spoke from behind him.

"Yes, excellence. It appears that some humans have attacked and killed another group. What it means, I don't know." The Black Op Elite walked to the window and looked out at the carnage below.

"They are still but human filth, are they not? They must all die." No sooner had the newcomer finished speaking then a sound not unlike the beam rifles used by the Jackal Snipers sent its rapport echoing down the road and a stream of energy crashed through the window and smote into the Black Ops back. Stunned, and not realizing his shields were down, the Sangheili crouched and looked about for the sniper. From a darkened window across the street, the same shot fired again and consumed the foolish Sangheili and sent the remains scattering across the room; blackened bits of armor and a carbonized skeleton.

Eta had thrown himself flat after the first shot, the veteran being no stranger to combat with humans. While not encountered often, the human snipers were quite skilled at their art. The Unggoy broke and ran from the room screaming. The sniper fired off another shot and fried one of the fleeing Unggoy. Silence reigned for a moment. Eta looked for and found a shattered bit of mirror that he used to try and peek over the edge of the window. The sniper had moved on, and the humans in the street were pulling out, running off to some unknown destination.

Cursing in his own tongue, Nogal'me crawled from the room to round up the grunts again. These new humans had some strange tricks up their sleeves, and he was determined not to suffer the same fate as the Black Op. That didn't make his last words any less true though. They were still human and must die.

_This firefight has gone on too long…_ Thought Corporal Banks. The Covenant had found the building his squad was and what had been a skirmish quickly turned into a running gun battle between himself and the Covvies. With only him and two squad-members left, it was time to find a way to really disengage.

Banks' opposite, a Sangheili named Fosa Nal'renee, was thinking along the same lines. Only he, a rookie by the name of Ras Po'teilee, and three Unggoy were left of his original team of the two Elites, 8 Unggoy, and two Kig-yar. Trying to uproot the humans had drained more resources then he had thought, and it was either time to end this or to retreat.

Fosa clicked his mandibles. Retreat was out of the question. The humans could not push back the Holy Covenant. His thoughts were interrupted by one of the Unggoy ordered to watch the corridor to the south that opened up into this lobby the humans had hidden in.

"Boss! There be a small human here! It-" The rest of the transmission was lost in a skull-splitting wail through the radio, with a dull thump heard from the hallway. Ras, who had heard the same, crept over to a bank with more of the green plants in it and peered between the leaves. His voice came over the waves a moment later.

"The lights are out. I cannot see our scout… I think he is dead. There is a large pool of Unggoy blood spreading out from the doorway." Fosa growled. Another member of his team was dead. Even if he returned victorious, the other Veterans would no doubt mock his apparent lack of leadership skills.

Banks and his men had not sat idle, however. Spotting a handy corridor to the south, they crept along the edges of the room towards it. Finally, the destination was in sight. With a final "Frag out!" as a parting shot, the three humans dashed down the corridor. The floor was sticky, but they paid that no mind, only trying to escape. At the end of the corridor, a light flickered. And every other flicker, the shape of a small girl could be seen…

Both Sangheili ducked as the grenade blew and sent dirt and shards of tile about. Ras peeked over the edge to see the last human duck into the gloom.

"They're gone, sir. Do we follow them?" Fosa stood and looked about the lobby. With a sigh, he answered his fellow Elite.

"Rally on me. We must withdraw and gain reinforcements."

Ras' reply was lost in another skull-splitting wail over the comm., followed shortly by a human scream. The staccato rapport of the human weapons echoed out of the darkened corridor, the flashes casting yellow-orange light on the bend. The wail toned down, but the firing did not. Another scream, and then the gunfire silenced as well. Silence for a moment, before a gloved and blood splattered hand grasped its' way out of the darkness and into the light of the lobby. The human marine pulled himself along the ground, coated in human blood and obviously injured.

Banks looked up, and saw two tall blurry shapes. One was blue, the other more red. Part of his mind realized they were the Elites his team had fought. Then he realized that they were in danger as well…

"Run…" The human croaked out to Ras. "Run!"

Ras might have obeyed, but he was staring above the marine, at the ceiling of the hallway. On it, walked a little girl in a red dress. Somehow gravity didn't seem effect her, for she acted as if it were the floor she walked upon. Quite suddenly she disappeared, and the human on the floor gasped one last breath and simply melted, the human and Unggoy blood mixing into some grotesque pastel. Ras jerked into motion, turning to run away. Fosa could only stare as the human girl stood beside Ras and looked directly at him. Ras moved forward, and pitched over as he too melted away into blood and bone. Fosa finally raised his plasma rifle, firing in a blind panic at the little girl. The blasts only impacted on tile, the girl was gone again. Fosas' eyes and weapon jittered around, looking for some indication of this new assailant. When none appeared, he calmed down a bit and turned around…

Where he came nose to nose with the same little girl. His last act on this plane of existence was to scream out over the command channel as he liquefied.

"**It is the nature of man to create monsters… And it is the nature of monsters to destroy their creators."**

**-Harlan Wade**


	2. Chapter 2

**Deaths worse then Fate**

**Interval 02: Escalation**

As night fell over the besieged city, the edges of the engagement zone began to fray. These new attacks cut off communication, killed recon teams, and sent each side into a semi-panic, each expecting it to be some kind of attack from the other. At the Chicago Reserve base, the Humans HQ for defending the city, they launched drones into the air and requested satellites be redirected to help identify the attackers. Within the Chicago University Campus, the Covenant directed teams hither and yon, organized fast reaction teams, and sent cries to the remaining Covenant forces for more aid.

And as the last rays of the sun faded from sight, the current policy of cease-fire was broken in the Historic District.

"HQ, this is Recon Zulu 5! Gunshots detected in the Historic District! Defense team sent to guard and evacuate remaining civilians at Armacham building not responding!"

"Roger Zulu 5, assault forces inbound. Keep the area in sight and try to isolate the intruders."

"Affirmative command, Zulu 5 out." Sergeant Hoky put the radio down and looked over his shoulder.

"Saddle up troops! We're going in!" The 9-man recon team mounted the M12 LAV 'Warthogs' and gunned the engines. All three of the vehicles rolled out onto the asphalt and roared away, the gunners and passengers yelling at each other and betting who would be the first to bag a Covvie today.

Likewise, a deep-strike Covenant recon team, all stealthed Sangheili, watched the wheeled jeeps bounced away. With a few hand signals, the 5 sprinted off in the direction of the 'hogs' in order to find out just what idiot had gone and blown their cover at this 'Armacham' building.

Unfortunately for both groups, everyone had the wrong assumptions.

Parking the loud reconnaissance vehicles a block away, the 9 man marine team snuck up to the silent but lit complex. The Armacham building was recently renovated a year ago, boasting of advanced labs, an almost military grade and unbeatable security system, plus quite lush decorations and furnishings. The main entrance was soon in sight, and there were two armored trucks out front. The marine guards assigned to the place lay in steaming and quickly congealing pools of their own blood in the evening air. An ATC security officer also lay by the doors, his blood splattered along the wall as he had tried to run.

"Covvie bastards are goanna pay for that." One of the marines muttered and chambered a round into his assault rifle.

"No, look." The Sergeant pointed to the blood. "Covvie weapons don't punch holes, they burn. And I don't think they use trucks either."

"What? Those ain't ours?"

"See any markings? They don't even have license plates." The team slowly crept across the road, conscious of the many lit and unlit windows of the building ahead, towards the bodies and unknown armored cars. The team moved out and inspected the area. Sure enough, there were shell casings about and the trucks were unmarked. Keys still in the ignition and the trucks were obviously well built things, but there was no stamp identifying who they belonged too or who made them.

"I've got a bad feeling about this one Sarge…"

"Mohamed, normally I would tell you to shut up but you may just be right this time. All right, game faces people. Let's secure the lobby." The marines collected at the door and prepared to move in.

Behind, hidden and silent, the Covenant team watched and listened. The humans had confirmed that there were no other recon teams in this area with their chatter, so now it was time to find out just what happened. Perhaps the same strange assailants that had plagued the battlefront all day were to blame.

Plasma rifles and carbines charged, energy swords and garrotes ready, the team snuck in behind the advancing marines and observed. There was time enough to kill the scum, for now information gathering was a far more important mission.

The lobby was an absolute mess. Bullet holes punctured the walls, shattered glass glittered from the floor, shell casings tinkled about, and fresh blood made the already shiny floor gleam under the fluorescent lights. After the three outside had died, it seems the attack force had just opened fire on full auto from the doors and killed whatever resistance waited in the lobby; 4 more marines and 6 ATC security guards, plus one poor civilian who looked like your average computer coder packing up and going home for the night.

After that, it was just a matter of following the boot prints of blood to the elevators and finding out what floor it was at. The lobby secure, the Sangheili Black Op team started to head towards the stairs. They would get noticed in the elevator, and the real assault team had just showed up anyway. It was time to move out and search around.

The 5 Elite team split up into two groups; Group 1 were two Sangheili named Roak and Sune, Group 2 was Ba'n, Vil, and Unka. The two groups went to different floors, trying to find the strange humans responsible for the slaughter below. Taking the stairs, neither team encountered much resistance. In fact, the place seemed utterly devoid of life. No humans to speak of save the odd corpse found in hallways or rooms. Some were shot, others with snapped necks, and some appeared to have been liquefied leaving only bloody bones.

Group 2 continued trying to follow the attack group, while Group 1 decided to examine an area that was reported to be an area of great activity to these new humans. It was group 1 that started to come across the atrocities.

When the stairs had failed Roak and Sune, they tried the elevators planted within the tall building. It only took a moment to figure out the controls, and then the two started to ascend. Progress was slow, and it seemed as if it was slowing more and more. At last, after proceeding three floors, the elevator grinded to a halt and flashed a warning. 'Maximum Weight Exceeded" was the blinking sign, and the doors to the elevator parted. Confused, the pair crawled out through the gap left between the floor of the 7th story and the elevator. Looking about the small waiting area, they located a door to the maintenance passages for the elevators. Proceeding through the door and up a ladder, they were soon alerted to the reason for the elevator stop.

With a wet squish, the body of another civilian flopped down from above onto the pile of dead co-workers. Covenant weapons cauterized wounds, so blood was not commonplace. The sheer amount that dripped down the walls and pooled on the elevator staggered even these mighty warriors.

Sune spat. "Humans are filth… That they would slay their own kin thus goes beyond that which even I would have expected of them."

"Perhaps then, Brother, the humans we hunt are different." Roak knelt and peered at the mound of corpses. "I do not think the humans are capable of this… not this slaughter of their own kind. Something troubling is at work here."

Regaining senses, the two proceeded to climb. Two more corpses flew past to land on the blood soaked pile below as they ascended, sometimes bouncing off a wall or two before landing. As they approached the open doors to the shaft, the sounds of crying could be discerned, along with the sharp rapport of a human pistol. Apparently there were still executions going on.

The pair got closer and closer, finally almost to the doors. Three more bodies were flung down the shaft, and the crying got louder. As they climbed, one particularly loud screech echoed out.

"NOOO! NO! NOOO!" Another sharp rapport and a fourth body, a female human, pitched backwards and started to fall. A younger voice cried out after that, "MOM!" and a small human child flung himself over the edge after the body of its mother. As the youngling descended, a head covered with a red hood and white mask leaned out after it. A weapon was held in the figures hands, two barrels and a side bar fed into the side. This was leveled briefly and one-shot whumped out of the cannon. The barrels still switching positions, the grenade tore into the child's back and blew it in two. Blood splattered everywhere, including onto Roak and Sune.

The figure glanced over at the blood hovering in mid-air for a second, and it's glowing orange eyes locked into those of Roak. A heartbeat eternity passed, as the neurons fired and connected. Roak was discovered, and the new human knew there was something in the shaft. They both reacted instantly after that heartbeat, the human leveled his grenade launcher again and Roak took aim with his plasma rifle. The barrage of plasma forced the human to flinch and send the grenade off course. It slammed into the wall behind and below the two previously stealthed Elites, peppering them with concrete shards and the pressure wave.

Sune cursed as he felt one shard drive deep into his thigh after the explosion knocked out his shields. Roak continued to spray the doorway with plasma, forcing the humans beyond to either stay out or get their faces burned off. He continued to fire until his weapon cycled to cool off, and silence descended again save for the hissing plasma and the muttered curses of Sune. No humans appeared to take advantage of the vulnerable Sangheili. After a few more moments, a voice lifted down the shaft.

"Don't come up yet! The test-tube motherfuckers left a proxy mine up here. Give me a second, I'll get it gone." There was silence again, and then a little beep and fwump followed by a large BLAM! The elevator doors bent inwards, and one blew completely off in its weakened state. It tumbled down and, as luck would have it, scraped Sune on his already injured leg. The now badly injured Elite cried out in pain as the door continued its fall, this time with a bit of his leg with it.

"Shit! Are you all right?" The voice came down again.

"No!" Sune growled out through gritted teeth.

"Damnit, I didn't know those things packed so much bang. Just hold on, I'll get a rope you can grab onto and I'll pull you up." Running footsteps could be heard for a moment before they tapered off into silence. With whatever help the two had found themselves with gone, Roak glanced below to the grimacing Sune.

"Brother?"

Sune managed to look up at his partner. "Shrapnel wound from that human with the strange mask and the door hit me on the way down. Hnph… My left leg's fairly torn up…"

"All right, rope on the way!" A black cord fell down the shaft, a loop in the end to put someone's foot.

Sune nodded to Roak. "You first. I won't be of much help getting up." Roak nodded and took the offered climbing rope and clambered up through the hole.

The single marine on the other end only stared for a moment before tossing the rope down again. With both the marine and Roak pulling, they managed to get the injured Sune onto firmer ground.

"Dayumn… That looks right painful. Hang on just a bit longer there…" The marine looked at sympathy with Sunes' injury. He grabbed a med-kit from a nearby chair and popped it open. Pulling out biofoam injectors, bandages, tweezers, and cotton swabs, the marine prepared to treat the ragged wound on Sunes' thigh.

Roak watched with an invisible eyebrow raised. "Why do you help us, human?"

The marine didn't even glance up. "Well, we're both stuck in the same little pickle, ain't we? Those bastards are kill'n everyone, not just us. Way I figure it, we gotta work together to beat these guys back." As he talked, the marine used the swabs to clean away the blood and try to disinfect the ragged wound.

"You know about those humans?" Roak stood behind the human, partly to make sure he didn't hurt his brother, and partly to observe the human's rather impressive knowledge of field medicine.

"A bit. They're part of a secret project, named Perseus. Goal was to clone an army of super soldiers under the command of a telepathic commander so that the commander could get a first hand view of the battle without actually being in danger himself. But something went screwy, and now the commander in charge of these fuckers is kill'n everybody. The commanders' a guy named Paxton Fettel, and nobody has any idea where he is." As the marine continued talking, he gently probed the ravaged muscle of Sunes' leg for shrapnel. Pulling aside tissue and probing with the tweezers, he finally found the shard of concrete imbedded in Sunes' thigh.

"Gocha." The marine pulled the shard out in one swift jerk, causing Sune to flinch as the ice-cold dagger was yanked free at last. The marine dropped both tweezers and shard, picked up the biofoam injector and filled the still bleeding tear with the stinging foam. It stopped the bleeding and would help the damaged tissue regrow in time. After that he slapped a self-adhering bandage and pronounced the job done.

"Well, done as best I can with a med-kit. If you want it really done you'll have to go to a proper doctor." The marine stood up and brushed off his hands, helping a grumbling Sune to his feet.

Roak mused to himself for a moment. "What is your name, human?"

The marine looked up and gave a wry smile. "PFC David O'Hara, certified field medic, at your service sir."

The Replica forces were not entirely focused in one area however. While a large number had assaulted Armacham Technology Corporation Headquarters, there were other forces elsewhere. A passing satellite detected one such force before the Covenant armada located and eliminated the "eye in the sky." The pictures taken before the sats' destruction showed a huge number of them. If anything, this force was bigger then the one that attacked Armacham. Like some kind of insect species, they had infested the entire Auburn district and captured part of the warehouse area of the docks.

Wheels began to turn, questions were asked, and decisions were made. An infiltration team was constructed, and a diversionary strike force was assembled to draw attention away from the insertion team. Unfortunately, nobody could contact those at Armacham due to some strange interference so nobody knew just what these people were or what their goal was.

It seemed that the universe was determined to be fair this one time, for the Covenant had no advantages over the UNSC in this fight. They too had no true idea of what was going on, and were also interested in finding out more. So when they noticed the attack force descending on Auburn, they too launched an attack force of their own. What neither realized was that they were descending into Hell itself.

It would seem that these soldiers had been keeping many secrets. As the UNSC and Holy Covenant forces pushed into Auburn, they began to wonder at the light resistance. Few soldiers, some snipers, and two roadblocks were all that either encountered. Not quite the battalion of soldiers the satellite had shown. When both groups reached a construction site, a strange battlefield of cover, half-built structures, and open ground, some of the sergeants knew they had been tricked. Sergeant Marboro of C Company started to order his squads back when the real fight began.

A flight of HIND-86 choppers strafed the area with heavy machinegun fire, and then deposited their clutches in flanking areas of each army. Human and Covenant alike suddenly found themselves assaulted from air and from land. In addition to well-trained squads, the HINDs had dropped a new threat; a powered armor of some kind, much larger and bulkier then the MILJONIR armor of the Spartans, these were walking tanks. Duel rocket launchers shredded both infantry and armor, and whatever got close enough these machines would just step on or smash. The name printed on the front in bold stencil was REV6, and although only seen once in action now, the UNSC and Holy Covenant learned to fear the REV.

In an almost endless wave, more and more soldiers poured in. Snipers took up positions on towers and in nearby buildings, squads found cover, the REVs chewed up the ground with rocket blasts, and soon even more threats entered the fray. Accompanied by squads of regular soldiers, more of the strange forces came in heavy body armor. Neither fast or particularly willing to hide, these aptly named 'Heavy' soldiers had a few perks; Their armor was thick, their weapons were powerful, and they were well trained in the art of aggressive defense. The opposing sides soon discerned two types of Heavies from the enemy's ranks; the first were simple Heavies, equipped with heavy armor, a helm with four glowing blue lenses that fed to a small targeting computer inside the helm, and either a rifle that spat thick steel spikes at supersonic speeds or a triple rocket launcher. The second were Mini-Gunners, with even thicker armor, helms with a trio of red lenses leading to an impressive array of filters and targeters, thick riot shields that would fend off small and even medium arms fire, and a large rotary cannon that ripped everything short of tanks to little pieces. The armor made them slow, but both soon gained a measure of fear when soldiers were suddenly pinned to walls with the back end of rail spikes blossoming from their bodies, or when they disappeared in clouds of blood, bone, and bits of flesh mixed with the hurricane of bullets spat out by the Chain Gunners.

Within half an hour, both attack forces had been reduced to scattered squads trying desperately to escape the blood-drenched slaughterhouse. When you see your friends and comrades die around you in droves, even the best of soldiers can break. The crackle of automatic weapons echoed back and fourth, the whine of plasma weapons began to diminish, and every so often the rolling boom of the enemies REV mechs thundered out, as if to remind the other sounds that it was king. The Enemy combed the desecrated and blood drenched ground for survivors, so that the wounded would finally glimpse the afterlife.

Armacham had changed a lot in the few short hours since the first Replica attack. What few people had still been in the location were dead, the only ones alive now being the five-man Covenant stealth team, about a hundred UNSC Marines in separate Hunter/Killer teams, and an unknown number of Replicas. Plus or minus the odd little girl in a red dress.

For the moment, however, none of that was crossing the minds of David, Roak, and Sune. All that concerned them now was the squad of Replicas pinning them in the research sector of the building.

"What else can you tell me about these 'Replicas'?" Roak peeked his head around the corner as David tried to hack the security system.

"Not much, 'sides the cloning thing. They've gotten a little in terms of biological upgrades, like increased muscle mass and reaction times and whatnot. I think the main thing we have to worry about is surprise. Those bastards are tricky." Famous last words, as it turned out.

Rounding into the long hall that Roak was watching came the squad. The 4 in front dived for cover, spraying the hall with bullets. Roak pulled his head back, snarling.

"How did they find us?" He asked nobody in particular and pulled his two Plasma Rifles to ready. Sune slipped another clip into his Carbine, and David typed at the keypad even faster.

"Uh oh… Big guy coming in. More of those test-tube mother fuckers too!" David warned as the security cameras came to life on the screen before him. The four blue-clad Replicas already engaged lay down a suppression fire for the ones behind. Four more appeared, escorting a much larger soldier. Equipped with one of the experimental HV Penetrators, this would be a deadly foe.

The Replicas continued to advance, using overlapping fields of fire and suppression bursts they forced Roak and Sune to keep their heads down and peppered the hall with shells and bullets. David finally slapped the computer screen in frustration.

"Fuck this! Come on, let's get out of here. None of the codes are working!" David un-slung his rifle and pulled back the slide to load a bullet into the chamber. A quick grenade toss, and the three dashed out of the security alcove in a bid for escape. When the smoke cleared, the Replicas found the area empty. The Heavy raised a finger to the side of his helm and pressed a button.

"Command, the targets are on the move. Successfully flushed them towards Fire-Team Beta's position." His voice growled out from under the mask, an evil sounding thing, almost garbled beyond recognition.

"Roger that. Beta has been alerted and the capture is eminent. Stand by."

Team Alpha took a moment to reload and clear, before moving after their pray once more. Only one option was open to them now, and that was to walk straight into Team Beta.

The plan was good, although the one independent variable decided to be stubborn in its value. The two Sangheili and one marine proved to be far better then anticipated, plus much more cautious. It took them almost half an hour to reach the strike point, and even after that the three had inflicted heavy casualties in the attempt.

Continued attempt, that is. This fact was quite evident to both sides as the running firefight entered its fifth minute. From an all out battle to a vicious game of cat and mouse, the three absolutely refusing to back down when outnumbered.

_Or outgunned…_David thought to himself as the sniper ripped off another three round burst from his Bakasha ASP Rifle and tore divots out of the little wall he crouched behind. While the weapons were old they had lost none of their potency, a fact that Sune and Roak had discovered when the high-velocity bullets had pounded their personal shields flat. Several times.

"These humans are the most annoying I have ever had the misfortune to deal with to date!" Sune growled out from between his clenched mandibles. David just grinned.

"Just think; if you guys had left us alone, it would just be us humans against these test-tube mother-fuckers. Could tape it and make a killing back home." Roak glanced at the crouching medic with a look of surprise.

"Even at a time like this, you can joke?" David glanced over at the shocked Elite.

"Why not? If I'm gonna die…" They flinched down as another trio burst smashed into the marble boxes of plants they hid behind. "I'm gonna go out smiling. Maybe there's something to The Jolly 'Ol Devil. Mayhaps he'll let me off light down there."

This time Sune was one to stare. "Demons? You worship demons?"

David just kept on grinning. "If I had cared about goin' ta Heaven, I wouldn't have joined the Marines. 'Sides, it's not like I would have lived much longer anyway with you guys' glass'n our planets. Life is short enough as-is, and I plan to make sport of it while I can."

Both Sune and Roak were silenced by the frank admittance. As much as they didn't like it, they had grown somewhat attached to the wisecracking human. Sune was prepared to turn a blind eye to any escape David might make, Roak thinking similar thoughts, the idea of keeping David as a personal-prisoner or even a pet flickering in and out every so often. Not much of a life, but a life none-the-less. Although getting out of here at all, much less intact, was looking more and more remote.

It was Roak who finally got tired of this cat and mouse. Stepping out with a snarl, the Sangheili let loose a torrent of plasma at the snipers. Two fell and the third ducked into cover as the super hot gasses melted the rock around them. Until, of course, Roaks plasma rifle gave off a pathetic wheeze and stopped glowing. The Elite stared in horror at his empty weapon, other hand already clawing for the pistol on his side, when the last Replica sniper popped back out from cover. The first three round burst exploded on Roaks shields, fortunately fully recharged. Time slowed to a crawl, Roak still grabbing for his pistol, the human pulling his gun back down from the recoil. Roak knew he couldn't bring his pistol up in time, and with an almost detached air knew his time had come.

"Oh fuck!" David, outside the time slow effect, had precious milliseconds to stop what was going to happen. Roak first knew of this interference when a shadow crossed his vision and David sailed off in front of him. The three shots fired, and David continued. Roak never ceased pulling out his gun, and caught the Replica by surprise. A flurry of green plasma, squeezed out almost as fast as a Brutes' Plasma Rifle, impacted on the unfortunate soldier and his life ended with a cry.

"David!" Sune rushed over to the human, now curled up into a little ball on the floor after a hard landing. He grasped his stomach with his hands, teeth gritted in pain. From between his fingers leaked a viscous red fluid.

"Roak! Help me get this armor off of him!" The two Elites found the buckles for David's breastplate, undoing the ones they could and ripping open the rest, the got the armor off and exposed the wound fully.

With the removal of the plate, the two knew from their own anatomy and from watching humans die on the battlefield that David was dying. Precious liquid life now poured from between David's fingers like rivers.

" 'Tis… 'Tis not wide as a church door, nor… nor deep as… as a well… but 'twill serve…' Mercutio, from 'Romeo and Juliet' …" David tried to grin, ending up in more of a grimace as a fresh wave of pain pinged from the three holes in his body. Roak picked up the implication immediately. If only Mercutio had a friend like Roak when he was slain, he might have lived to stop Romeo's folly.

"Sune! Find one of those human medical kits, please hurry!" Sune nodded and rushed off to find the requested aid. Roak pulled the combat knife from David's boot and cut the shirt from David's body. His blood began to pool on the cold concrete, making the surface appear red as rubies but incredibly more valuable. Sune returned at last, empty-handed.

"There are none here, brother." Roak cursed, and looked down again. David was breathing raggedly through clenched teeth. His blood spilled freely, and without help soon David would depart the world of the living forever. An idea flashed through Roaks mind, and he pulled the energy sword from its place at his side.

"David, I'm going to have to cauterize those wounds. It will be painful, but it's the only chance you have to live." David, nodded once, then screwed his eyes shut and tried not to pass out just yet. Sune, knowing what was to come, bent over and picked up one of the shell casings from David's gun. He offered the piece of brass to the prone human, who looked up with gratitude and opened his mouth for the case to be offered. Biting down on the cool metal, David once more shut his eyes for the deed to come. Roak activated his sword, a brilliant flash of blue plasma lighting up the area. It was a risky venture, both for David and for Roak, but it had to be done. Roak did his best with the lower tip of the blade to quickly jab the bullet holes and stop the bleeding. David cried out for a second as the first hole was burned closed, then drew in a breath as if to drown the traitorous noise in oxygen. The second was similar, and on the last one David passed out. This left the two Sangheili to decide his fate, however. Any objections he would have to their decisions would be ill grounded.

"We have to return him." Sune was the first to speak after Roak had turned off the improvised sealer.

"Return him? The humans won't let us get close enough, and I won't trust them to find him in time to help."

"But the Hierarchs won't allow a human to sully their ships, or their medical facilities, much less let us keep him to care for ourselves!"

"Damn the Hierarchs!" Sune gasped. To defy the Hierarchs was about the biggest bit of blasphemy one could perform. "I owe this human my life! Mine for his, without him mine is forfeit! Or would you have me deny the power of our peoples Life Debt?"

Sune stared at Roak only for a second, then looked down to the ground. "Forgive me, brother. I had forgotten the Life Debt. But surely that applies only to other Sangheili?"

Roak shook his head. "Some may argue that point, but the exact wording is that any who saves the life of another at the cost of his own, the one who was saved owes their savior their life. Us two are bound together now, for better or for worse."

Sune sighed. "You always did have a habit of changing the way people looked at things." The two battle-brothers smiled wearily, a bit of old humor returning to exhausted faces.

"Come, let us leave this vile and accursed place." Sune nodded, once more trying their communicator.

"Command, this is special reconnaissance team 'Revealing Light.' We need an extraction. Duty done."

"Sune? By the Prophets, it is good to hear your voice again!"

"Jak'ta?" Sune heard a voice he hadn't heard in a long time; that of his true brother.

"Aye, brother. I had feared the worst, after Vil reported…" The Elite trailed off for a moment, forcing Sune to fill the gap.

"You've heard of the others? What happened? Where are they?"

"I'm sorry brother… Vil had reported their capture, although he managed to escape long enough to inform us." The agony of that memory was evident in Jak'tas' voice.

"Oh Prophets… Don't tell me they're dead!"

"That is the news brother, but that isn't all of it. Before Vil died, he told us what that human had done to our comrades!" It was unfiltered rage that hissed out of the comm. now, like a venomous acid leaching warmth from the normally comforting voice. "Sune… That human filth has eaten the flesh of our brothers!"

Sune was shocked to the core, his mind reeling as it tried to comprehend just what Jak'ta has said. _Eaten!? From the Jiralhanae, it would expect something as brutish and barbaric, but the humans!?_

"Brother?" Roaks' sudden intrusion on the shaken Sune brought the shocked Elites eyes up to lock with his battle-brothers in an instant. "Brother, what's wrong?"

"Our comrades… The leader of these Replicas, he ate them!"

"What!? Impossible!" Roaks reaction was the one Sune so desperately desired; plain denial. Yet it seemed that it would be Sune who was forced into the role of righteous fury.

"It is true, brother! That human has defiled what little respect I had for their pitiful race!" Whatever argument Roak was about to make was drowned in the jet-blast of the Phantom that drifted overhead. The grav-beam activated, projecting a ray of hope and safety to the bedraggled team. Sune and Roak looked at each other for a moment before Sune stepped into the beam, while Roak bent to pick up the limp form of David.

The appearance of a human in their midst, even a critically injured one, almost set the Unggoy in the troop-bay into a panicked frenzy. Sune's voice of command stilled them one more, while Roak began retrieving some of the medical equipment from the forward portion of the ship.

"But… but-but, maaaaaaaaster…" One unfortunate Grunt had been chosen to the spokesman for this group. "It be a human! Why we take it with us?"

Sune paused a moment before answering. "This human is our prisoner. It may contain knowledge of our enemies, something that I would feel much better having then not." This seemed to satisfy the Grunts, who lapsed into their own squeaky language and chatted amongst themselves. With those dealt with, Sune turned towards Roak and David. Gently clasping his hand on Roaks' shoulder, Sune looked over the pale human.

"Will he live?" Roak sighed in frustration.

"I don't know. He is beyond the help of our limited kits here. This," he gestured to the burnt holes in David's torso. "Require the skill of a surgeon. That is assuming we can get blood for him. He's lost a lot." Sune nodded in silent agreement. Roak put the useless kit in his hands away and stood to face his battle-brother.

"So… What happened to loosing respect for the humans?" Sune held Roaks' gaze for a moment before looking away.

"No matter what his kin do, this one has earned my gratitude and grudging respect. Without him, I would surely have lost a brother of many conflicts." Roak smiled at this frank admission.

"Well I'm glad something can turn your heart of stone." The two brothers forged by fire smiled, although any will to laugh had been drained way in the fight before.

Beside them lay David, unbeknownst to either Roak or Sune, who was to be a third member of this brotherhood. Although David would have to survive for a few hours to be saved, and right now those chances were looking rather grim.

"**When mankind toys with mother-nature, she may become very, very angry…"**

**- Eli Vance**


	3. Chapter 3

**Deaths Worse Then Fate**

**Interval 03: Red Line**

Three hours have passed since Roak, Sune, and David's flight from Armacham. Roak had been called to speak with the Prophet directly; David was currently under the care of the head surgeon on the Covenant Cruiser, Harmonious Repose; and Sune… Sune was engaged in a universally consistent favorite pastime for soldiers wherever or whatever they are, sleep. Without any new demands or requirements, Sune was trying to grasp the dreamless sleep that was his due. Unfortunately, even in his dreams the visions of death and destruction haunted him. Amidst all this blood, violence, and an unnerving feeling of being watched but unable to wake, was that one little girl. Only it wasn't the same one anymore; this one looked older, taller, yet even more of a corpse then the first. No clothes to speak of, but instead of making it comical or sexual it made the vision all the more disturbing, intimidating even. She was slimy and thin as a rail, the word skeletal coming to mind. She never made a grand entrance or appearance, but she was there… watching… waiting for something…

It was from these disturbing images that Sune finally and suddenly joined the world of the waking. A quick scan of the room revealed that his dreams were just that; dreams. With a sigh, Sune dropped back to his sweat drenched sheets. He lay there exercising control over his breath and overly rapid heart, attempting to regain his composure. Given two minutes, Sune was satisfied that he wouldn't appear shaky to the troops, and thus decided to dress and join the waking fully in daily activities. His armor was fine, but the body glove that went underneath it was still torn around his thigh. He would have to pick up another from the quartermaster soon. Until then, Sune opted for a pair of thigh-length shorts and a tank top; what amounted to underwear for the Sangheili.

_Better then nothing, I suppose._ Sune mused to himself. Drawing up the shorts, however, a lance of pain shot into his leg like a red-hot knife as the stretchy material rolled over an innocent white bandage.

_There we go… Nnnnng… I was wondering when that was going to catch up with me._ Sune gritted his teeth, drawing his pants up the rest of the way and trying to ignore the throbbing knife buried in his leg. It was time to see the doctors about that. David did well, considering all the human had at his disposal was a medical kit, but this would require the work of a surgeon to finish the job. Striding out of his room, he gave the two Grunts who hastily pulled themselves back into attention when the Elite strode out a quick nod of acknowledgement before moving on. Sune forced himself to walk at the same pace he always did, despite the discomfort in his leg. It was a test of endurance, something to face and best. And thus Sune began a brisk walk to the medical bay, the ravaged muscle of his left leg protesting loudly the whole way.

The medical officer on duty that day, a fellow Sangheili, had the tear stitched back up in no time. He was fascinated with the bio-foam that had filled it however.

"You say a human used this?" The officer asked as he scraped a sample of the remaining foam from the wound. Sune merely grimaced and nodded.

"Interesting… I'll have to see if the Huragok can get a good copy of this… What did he call it?"

"Bio foam." Sune continued his grimace, wishing that the officer would just get on with it.

"Thank you. Like I was saying, this particular bio foam would have so many uses, that…"

"If you -don't- mind…" Sune finally got fed up with waiting for the doctor to stitch his leg back.

"Oh… Sorry." The medical officer, sufficiently cowed now, cleaned out the wound and bonded the muscles together at last. A small shot with a local anesthesia, and the operation was done. With that, the medical officer picked up his tools and set about organizing the place again. Sune stood on his left leg tentatively, pleased that there was no pain anymore and that his leg was whole.

"Officer?" The other Elite looked up in surprise as the warrior addressed him.

"Yes? Is there something else?"

"There is a human here, severely injured…" The officer nodded.

"Yes, him. He's a lucky one, that's for sure. I didn't dig around much, but from what I know of their biology and from the scanners if those bullets had gone anywhere else he would have expired long before we got to him. As it is, he almost didn't make it." Sune caught the words, yet some part of him panicked none-the-less.

"So he's still alive?"

"Yes. I can't say he'll be feeling very well for a few days, however. Those plasma burns may have stopped the bleeding, but I can only imagine how painful that was." Sune looked away briefly. Even he wouldn't be willing to get poked with a plasma sword anytime soon, no matter the reason. The act had been necessary, but the look of pain on David's face and the smell of burnt flesh came unbidden to Sune's mind.

"May I see him?" The officer tilted his head to the side.

"Yes, you may. He's in bay 7." Sune nodded his thanks and made to move off. The medical officer rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment, stopping Sune's advance. "I know many of the warrior caste look down on healers like me for lacking fighting spirit, but I can't bear to see injured creatures." Sune was surprised by this apparent non sequitur.

"And what…"

"No matter what the Prophets say, that human is still a creature. I won't let anything die in my bay without a fight." That's when it clicked into place; the officer didn't know Sune was one of the ones who rescued David, and thought he was going to kill one of the vile heathens. Sune gave a bark of laughter and smiled at the doctor.

"Don't worry about his safety with me. My battle-brother owes this human his life. Would I dishonor his name by slaying the one who he is indebted to? You have my word that the human will come to no harm." The officer nodded and let Sune go. He may not have been a warrior like Sune, but he understood the Warriors Way. Honor was very important to the proud Sangheili, as was their word.

Sune entered to find David laying on one of the medical tables. A sheet covered him up to his chest, his arms and pectorals visible along with his head. He appeared asleep at first, but when Sune approached his eyes fluttered open and he looked blearily at the Elite.

"Sune?"

The Sangheili gave a small chuckle. "How did you know?"

David's face cracked into a slight grin. "Bandage on the left leg."

One arm rose slightly to point at the splotch of white. To David, the world was a blob. Recovering from invasive surgery was like that. Sune pulled a stool out and sat, the holographic panels displaying statistics of the bed's patient glowed softly on the wall.

"David…" Sune paused before continuing. "I have to know something. You seem to know about these new humans, these Replicas. You know about their leader, and his past."

David looked at the Elite strangely. "Yes. What 'bout it?"

Sune sighed, trying to figure out how to proceed. "David… In our group, Roak and me, we had three other members. We split up, they went once way we another. We were the only ones to make it out. Everyone else was killed."

David nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry…"

Sune silenced him with a gesture. "That's not it, David. Two of them… The leader of these Replicas ate their flesh."

"Wha!?" David made as if to sit up, but a lance of pain shot through his abdomen as he did, leaving David to do nothing more then fall back to the bed and grit his teeth. Sune continued after a pause. "What do you know of this human that would drive him to such an act?"

David snorted, trying to calm his spasming belly muscles. "I… don't know. From what I gathered about the… Origins project, Fettle went crazy during something they called a Synchronicity Event. A few people died or something, 'cause they shut down the project after that. My guess is that the guy isn't quite right in the head, messed up or something." Sune listened to David's weakened speech intently. Seeming to accept that Fettle was crazy, he decided not to press the issue. "And what about a female human?"

David blinked. "Huh?"

"A tall female human, naked and thin. She radiates this aura of anger and hate. Have you seen her?"

The humans' eyes widened. "You too?"

"What's that mean?"

David sighed. "I've seen 'er. In my dreams, though. Only in my nightmares." It was Sune's turn to act surprised.

"That is where I have seen her too! But… How can this be? This is beyond the normal!" David started for a moment, and then burst into laughter. Given his condition, it quickly turned into a hacking cough. Sune rose to help the human, but David waved him off with a hand.

"Oh man, I am so dumb… Should have thought about this ages ago."

"Thought of what?"

David kept smiling. "I think I know who we can get to help us. A little organization called F.E.A.R…"

Roak was bracing himself for the inevitable fallout with the Prophet in charge. While only a Minor Prophet, the Prophet of the Departed still held some sway over the others. Young by their standards, Roak figured he had a chance to sway the regal figure over to a slightly different style of thinking. Surely, since the humans had lasted so long against the might of the Covenant, a total extinction would be throwing away a valuable possible asset.

_Yeah right. And the next Prophet will be an Unggoy._ Roak thought darkly to himself. It seemed like an eternity before the doors opened and he was admitted into the Prophets presence. As the doors shut behind him, any argument that Roak might have voiced died on his lips. Before him sat the Prophet of the Departed, his intricate headpiece sitting on a small desk in front of him and the Prophet massaging his temples. With a wave of his had, the irregularity became even more pronounced.

"Come on, let's hear your report. Time is short, as usual." Roak made to bow and offer exaltations, as was the Prophets due, but again the Sangheili was stopped. "Don't waste our time with honorifics, captain. I have neither the time nor the patience to continue with all the little niceties that are supposed to show honor and respect. Pfah! Lets just get onto the bad news and wrap up this miserable day. Or night. Whatever time it is now."

Roak was stunned, but he complied. After all, who was he to argue with a Prophet? He sat and delivered his story of what happened at Armacham. At the end, Departed sat for a minute processing the information.

"And this human is still alive?"

"Yes, Prophet. He resides within our medical facilities this very moment."

"Good. Even better then good. We need more information on this new foe. While they appear, fight, and even die like humans, they obviously have something bigger in mind. They are called Replicas, you say?"

"Named thus apparently because they are clones. Of whom, O'Hara assumes the commander, this Paxton Fettle."

"Hmm… And what about this Replica commander?"

"I would say the human is out of his mind, Prophet. From what we gathered, and from what the human has told me, he is after specific people. When he captures these people, he eats their flesh." The Prophet simply shook his head.

"And yet he commands these troops. I will never understand humans."

"With all due respect, Prophet, the Replicas have no choice. If we kill Fettle, the soldiers will deactivate. A strange term applied to living creatures, I know, but that's what it is. They'll be in a dormant state, unable to do anything. Dead, for all purposes except basic living requirements such as breathing." The Prophet mulled this over for a time. After a few moments he sighed.

"Well, I must commend you on your mission. It's about the only thing that has gone even slightly right today."

"Prophet?"

"You mean you don't know? I figured that every trooper would know of my failure by now."

"You cannot be serious! A Prophet? Fail!? It is…"

"I am mortal, Forerunners damn it all, and to be mortal is to be fallible!" The statement shocked Roak to the core. Prophets had always been these pillars of strength, untouchable by the ghost of failure. And here was one, admitting the blame for… Roak still didn't know what. But he was sure to find out; the Prophets outburst had opened the floodgates and now the Prophet of the Departed was spilling out the story.

"Those Replicas are smart. So very clever. Of course, they would not have been quite so if I had listened to my commanders! They saw an opening, an opportunity to strike back, something too good to be true! They saw it, but I would not listen. I ordered a little less then half our troops to find and eliminate every single one of those damned Replicas. And then, it went exactly as my commanders had predicted. The trap was baited, set, and sprung. They were holding back, you see. These Replicas never unveiled their true power. They did back at that slaughterhouse." Roak listened with a stunned silence. At last, the spew of blasphemy ground to a halt, and Roak spoke quietly.

"What happened?" The Prophet looked up at the shaken Elite. His eyes burned with unfiltered hate, but not for the operative before him. Roak saw that hate reflected inwards, all of it internal. Not a drop of scorn was saved for those outside.

"They're all dead, captain. A little less then half our forces, gone. And it's my own fault. My fault and mine alone. If only this system weren't in place, if only the commanders had not been afraid to tell me that it was a death-trap, if only this damned precedence had been ignored in the face of total annihilation, they would still be alive and continuing to fight for glorious salvation!" The Prophet, in his fit of self-loathing and hate, slapped his headdress and sent it bouncing on the floor. Silence reigned for a few eternities before the Prophet spoke in a soft voice.

"As it is, they now join hands in the afterlife, no doubt scorning me for my stupidity. Wasted. All those lives, wasted." Roak watched as the Prophet slowly slipped into a quiet depression. He gingerly walked over to the discarded mantle of office, picking it up off the floor. If the Prophet took any notice of these actions, he gave no sign of it. Walking back to the dejected leader, he extended the ornate hat.

"Each warrior goes to battle, knowing full well it could be his last. To transcend the physical realm is but another step. Those who die for the cause of salvation are promised paradise. It is up to us, the living, to see their sacrifice brought to fruition." The Prophet looked up and gave a humorless smile.

"I appreciate your words and the gesture, captain, but my mistake cannot be forgiven." He sighed, finally accepting the heavy thing from the Elites hands. "And yet I cannot allow myself to fall into despair. Dead though they may be, they can die again if nothing is done about their first death. So be it! We must continue forward and hope to outrun the fall just long enough…" The Prophet paused for a moment, weighing the words he had uttered. "Just long enough… But how far until the end, I wonder. Will our speed save us, or will the distance prove to great?" Roak knew the standard answer to this question.

"Faith will save us." The Prophet looked up and gauged Roak with a thoughtful expression.

"Only time will tell." Roak almost smiled. It was rare to find Prophets that understood limitations of reality. Faith was all well and good, and it certainly helped. But even the best faith could not turn the guns of the enemy. And those guns were many and powerful. Reality cared not for faith; a simple design by mortals, intended to give excuse for action. Although what Roak witnessed was nigh on blasphemy, Roak was an open-minded being. An untraditional captain, with an untraditional commander. If the Covenant were not quite so hard pressed on this world, both of them would surely be fodder for the Inquisition.

The two were interrupted by a ding at the door. The Prophet answered.

"You may enter." One of the outside guards entered, only enough to speak.

"Your Excellence, one of the stealth-team members says he has important information for you. He claims to have a special contact that may yield special information on our enemies." The Prophet of the Departed considered this, as did Roak. Roaks thoughts, however, were slightly different. Instead of _"What information could he have?"_ he was thinking, _"What has Sune done now?"_

Normally, the PR office for First Encounter Assault and Recon was quiet. The only operator there was, in addition to being the top PR representative and only member in the PR department, was Betters' secretary. Thus, it is with a certain amount of understandability that the ring from the PR phone gave him a bit of a shock. The secretary let it ring a few times before reaching over and picking up.

"Hello, you've reached the First Encounter Assault and Recon team's public relations. How may I help you?" What answered him seemed to be an unintelligible stream of noises. It was speech, but not any speech the secretary knew.

"I'm sorry sir, I can't understand what your saying. Do you have a translator?"

"Wort wort… There, is that better?" The deep baritone that answered seemed to switch easily into English. The secretary wasn't sure how whoever was on the other line managed that, but was grateful none-the-less.

"Much, thank you sir. Now, what can I help you with?"

"I need to speak with your superior officer."

"My superior?" The secretary mulled this over a bit. "I'm sorry, but Mr.Betters is a very busy man. Perhaps we can schedule an appointment?"

"No, I must speak with him now. It is vital importance to the Covenant that we understand our foes."

"Importance to the… Just whom am I speaking to?"

"I am Sune Rol'anmee, and I -will- speak with your superior." The secretary sat in quiet shock for a few seconds. Then long years of practice took over.

"Just a moment, sir." He hit the hold button and sat in quiet contemplation. This lasted only about 5 seconds.

"BETTERS! Get the fuck out here!"

Unfortunately, the pay phone is an immovable object. Were it not, the Covenant would have undoubtedly brought it into the Council Chamber so that the Prophet of the Departed could speak with Betters there. As it was, the Prophet had left the relative safety of the battleship and now hovered on the yard talking with this human. The conversation had been going on for a bit; Betters didn't see any reason why the Covvies couldn't be told. Besides, it wasn't as if he was divulging military secrets.

It was some time early morning now. The sun would rise a new day within a few hours. It was, however, still dark outside. The blue lights of the Covenant, coupled with the sparse campus lamps created an almost ethereal air. However, the subject of this particular conversation was all too real.

"Well, it looks like the Replicas have pulled out of Armacham entirely now. That Alice Wade chick took off without any escort, and now my Point man is out God knows where, my other operative is injured along with a Delta Force operative, and it looks like these Replicas are all over the area. If anyone lived in Auburn now, they sure as hell don't anymore."

"But what are they after? Surely this Fettel person has an objective!"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. But without my Point man I've got no info. Hang on a second…" Betters reached over and tapped the screen he was watching. It looked like his Point man was alive after all. The interference broke at last and a transmission burst through.

"Hey, good work buddy! I'm patching this in now." Betters paused and looked over the incoming data. The prophet on the other line was put on hold for a moment. Just as he was about to say something, Betters came back.

"All righty. Got a little bit more on Origins. Seems that Armacham used a particular psychic to get their results. Only Harlan Wade, the director, wasn't convinced that genetics were the only transmittable feature for psychic powers. So they used the psychic's genetics, cloned her, grew a child inside her, and then put her into forced labor. This isn't just some questionably ethical experiment; this is pretty fucking sick."

The Prophet for the Departed nodded in silent agreement. That the human was condemning his own kind proved that not all humans believed in what this Armacham was doing.

"So, how does this effect my question?"

"Well, I don't have a lot of proof, but I've got a theory. He's after an Armacham facility known as the Vault. It's at the Rammermire Industrial Complex, or rather under it." The Prophet mulled over this information for a bit before responding.

"While any information at this point is an improvement, I still fail to see where it helps me or my soldiers directly. And, for all I know, you could be lying to me."

"There isn't any way to convince you that this isn't some elaborate hoax, huh? Well, you can either take my words as they are or leave 'em, 'cause they ain't gonna change. As for helping you direct..." Betters weighed his options before continuing.

"Tell you what; my point man is still in Auburn somewhere. If any of your forces link up with him, we might be able to get into the Vault and get to the bottom of this whole damn mess." It was the Prophets turn to weigh options.

"Don't you have any more of your own soldiers?" Betters laughed at this.

"Hell, F.E.A.R was the laughing-stock of any armed government organization up until about 12 hours ago. I only have three field operatives, and one of them is missing. The second is stuck with a Delta-force guy until medivac arrives, and the third is my point man who's God knows where in Auburn." The Prophet was shocked.

"That is all you have?" Betters continued to laugh as he explained.

"We were formed by executive order, a required unit to use the terms of our president. Really, the guy was just a paranoid conspiracy theorist who believed in ghosts." Betters gave a sigh and the laughing stopped. "At least, that's what I thought until about 12 hours ago... Then everything changed." The Prophet nodded in sympathetic agreement at the last part. Everything was going exactly as it should have until these strange new humans appeared. He shook his head to clear it of useless thoughts. The world of what might have been was good as an abstract, but the world of the now was much more pressing.

"Very well. I will issue the order to assist, or at least not shoot, this point man. How will we identify him?"

"He's wearing one of our uniforms, so he should be easy to spot; blue suit with white body armor on the sides of the legs and on the torso. He's also wearing a grey face mask and red-tinted goggles." The Prophet nodded once more and memorized the appearance.

"I'll spread the word. Although I'm not sure how much help it will do; I have yet to hear from any of my soldiers sent into this Auburn area." The venom in the Prophets voice could be heard clearly. It was enough to kill flowers five times over. Betters could only agree with that assessment.

"Yeah, that really sucks. From what I've heard, the UNSC and Home Defense aren't doing to well either." For some reason, the fact that the humans had suffered just as much as the Covenant made the Prophet feel slightly better. Misery loves company, after all.

Surprisingly, some elements of the Holy Covenant did manage to survive the carnage. Nobody, including the ones involved, knew why. A blessing, some would call it, however those that survived said that it might have been better to have died on that butchers yard instead of living with the memories of that horrible ambush. Regardless, those that lived heard little snippets of the Prophets decree. All were puzzled, and some even took it for a human trick. Those vowed hunt this human down and find out why the others wanted him alive so badly. Others took the words as heresy, and vowed to replace the heathen Prophet as soon as they got back. Yet others actually listened to what words they could hear and vowed to find and aid this human. Weather the prophet was mad or not was not their decision. In the age-old maximum of the infantry, "Ours is not to wonder why, Ours is just to do or die."

In the end, for the little fortune of all involved, a member of the third kind found the Point Man. Rather, the member wandered into the same area as he and he almost shot them.

The first thing Kona Rastlee knew of the so-called point man was the blue/white blur that slid right in front of him. The dark, bottomless muzzle of a stolen assault rifle leveled with his left eye. Behind the gun, a human quite similar to the description the broken transmission spoke of finally shifted into focus. Many thoughts ran through Konas head at that point, a good many about death and how unfair it was. -They- were given the order not to shoot, but was this Point Man also informed? In addition, one thought was just how did this human move so fast?

The human gave an explosive exhale and lifted the gun away from Konas face.

_I guess the human was given such orders. He's twichy, almost like Unggoy._ Kona studied the human as he sat down and reloaded the assault rifle in his hands, topping off the few clips for it he carried from spares he had taken. However, watching those hands shake and his ragged breathing, Kona knew something was different then his first assessment. _No, not frightened. That's not all of it anyway. He's been in combat for too long._ The realization ran a number of different paths in Konas head. It meant that, unlike other humans in this place, this one knew about war. It also meant that this particular human had seen too much of it and was either going to handle it or break. Kona hoped it was the first option.

However, the fact that the rifle used by this human was the same one used by the Replicas.

"How did you come by this weapon, human?" The Point Man looked up at the Elite. His face was hidden behind the baklava and goggles, so any facial expressions were hidden. Not that Kona could read them anyway. The human pulled a single pistol out of its holster and handed it, butt first, to Kona. The Sangheili knew enough about human weapons to know this one was not well suited for prolonged combat. It was further confirmed that this weapon needed to be replaced when the human took it back and slid out the clip. It held none of the crude projectiles that the humans used. That did explain how this human came to use the Replicas weapons. There was a certain amount of irony in that, but it was not prevalent right at that moment.

"I suppose introductions are in order. I am Kona Rastlee, a mighty warrior of the Holy Covenant. You, unless I miss my guess, are the Point Man I was instructed to aid." The human looked up at Kona again and cocked his head. For a few seconds he stayed like that, then looked ahead, shrugged, and went back to filling clips. Kona, to say the least, was slightly miffed.

"Are you so rude as to not speak? Have I wasted my time trying to be civil instead of just killing you?" The human looked up again. He pointed to his throat, made a slashing motion across it, and shook his head from side to side. The motions puzzled Kona.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" The Point Man sighed and lifted up the edge of his mask. Around the humans throat was a mass of scar tissue. That's when it clicked in Konas brain.

"You're mute, aren't you? Those scars, that's where your vocal chords are. They were removed?" The human nodded and pulled the mask back down.

"How?" Again the human just looked at Kona. He apparently designed not to tell the Elite that part and resumed sliding the last few bullets into the clip. _Well, this is going to be fun._ Kona muttered dark thoughts in his head. Not long after the human stood again and motioned the grumbling Kona to follow. Up the stairs, along the wood walkway, up some more, and at last to an elevator. The two entered, but then a very strange thing happened. The Point Man went up to press the button, but then jumped back as if electrocuted. Kona noticed something else before this strange behavior. For a split second, it seemed as if the human was falling through the floor of the elevator.

The human in question now jerked his gun just about everywhere, taking ragged breaths. His hands shook, and his head jittered about looking for… something. Did he see something Kona could not? However, the frantic search seemed to find nothing and the human slid down to the floor, trying to calm his nerves.

"What happened?" The human just shook his head and struggled to regain control of his heart and lungs. The human finally pulled the goggles off his face and just sat for a few moments. Kona spoke up quietly.

"I saw you fall…" That got the humans attention in a hurry. The humans' eyes seemed normal for them, a swirl of blue and green, but the way he looked at Kona… The Elite felt like the human was seeing past any covering or lie, like he was bared naked before those eyes. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.

At last the human looked away and gave a sigh. He drew out a pad of paper and a pen, quickly sketching out a reply.

'It's complicated.

Will explain later.'

The Sangheili nodded and offered a hand to the human. Again, the Point Man just looked at Kona for a moment. Then he grasped the offered hand and Kona pulled him to his feet. The human once again pressed the button on the elevator, and it began to descend. The two took a moment to rest, which was abruptly broken. A crackling over the comms was heard, the human immediately began looking about for something. And then, the something became quite apparent. A room passed by the grate, plastered with blood but oddly enough no bodies. However, the little girl in a red dress slowly walking towards them as the lift descended was even more disturbing. She disappeared from view as the lift continued down, dissolving into dust and little black flakes.

The Elite and the human looked at each other, and for one moment in history both races shared a single though; What the fuck am I doing going –DOWN-!?

Fear is a basic human emotion. What frightens you more; the evil that you know, or the evil that you don't know?

**- Unknown**


	4. Chapter 4

**Deaths Worse Then Fate**

**Interval 4: Melt Down**

(Authors Note: This chapter will be different then the others, since it concentrates only on Point Man and Kona. It also follows as much of the last levels of F.E.A.R as I can remember, playing it fairly close to cannon. The story has a bit to go yet, and I need to move it along. We'll get to everyone else once Bad Things start happening. Well, Worse Things might be a better term.)

The descent ended at last, the lift grinding to a halt and dumping the pair into something resembling a lobby. A large glass window gave a view of a very large chasm, with a bridge over it and a very impressive door guarding what must be the heart of this facility. And on that bridge, stood two figures. One was old and thin, while the other was quite squat and very large. There was obvious tension here; the older man held a gun pointed at the fat guy. The pair could only watch the scene unfold before them…

"Look, I'm just doing my job!"

"And I'm doing what has to be done." With that, the older man lifted his gun and fired one shot. The large one sat down heavily, blood pouring from his brand new chest wound. The old human walked through the large open doors and disappeared behind thick metal as they closed. A quick charge down the hall and the two soldiers found themselves on the metal grate bridge over the chasm. The fat man was still seated where they last saw him, still alive beyond all reason.

"That… fuckhead… He locked you out." The Point Man knelt before the dying human, any expression hidden behind the baklava and goggles once more.

"The only way to get in… is to divert power to the doors." It took Kona a moment to realize what the explosive sigh meant. Apparently, this large human had been giving orders to the Point Man for quite some time. And it seemed to be getting on his nerves.

Despite this, the Point Man shouldered his weapon and proceeded the opposite way from the doors. Kona had no choice but to follow. What followed could only be described as hellish; a running gun battle between these Replicas and the two weary soldiers. Only it was not just any sort of Replicas that guarded this place, but what turned out to be the elite forces; more heavily armed and armored then their other counterparts. Kona started to wonder if any one of them would have been a fairly even match for one of his own race, a very disturbing thought all told. The only good side to all of this was that their numbers were few, and the two soldiers managed to fight their way towards the massive power shunts, crawling forward room by bloody room. For all their weaponry and skill, they were still mortal like anyone else in this conflict.

_This damnable conflict…_ Kona thought darkly to himself as the pair activated the last shunt.

_If only we had left this infested world alone. If only we had first arrived as planned. If only we had not fallen into that trap in Auburn. If, if, if! All these 'ifs' are driving me crazy!_ Kona actually growled to himself at these thoughts, and the Point Man turned to look back. The Elite raised a hand to block the unable-to-be-spoken question.

"Musings to myself, brother. Think nothing of it." The Point Man considered this for a moment, then shrugged and carried on. Kona, however, now had new thoughts to dwell on. He had called this human 'brother,' as one comrade does to another in his own species. Would the human recognize the significance of such a slip? Would it hold up to any other Sangheili should they come across them? Kona snorted to himself. Not very likely, seemed to be the answer in both cases. Yet 'brother' he had called this human, and 'brother' he would remain.

At last the pair returned to the human-made chasm, only to have Kona walk into the stopped human. The Elite soon found out why, as another human, a teenaged female, proceeded ahead of one human male that Kona had seen before; Fettle, the commander of the Replica forces.

The Point Man rushed after them, only to have both slip into dust before their eyes, and to see several robotic contraptions the Elite knew as Guardians. These flying horrors mounted smaller versions of their own lasers, and while the bolts themselves were not particularly harmful, they fired in rapid succession and generally came in good sized numbers.

Once more, the Point Man displayed speed unlike Kona had ever seen before, destroying one of the machines and beginning to fire on a second by the time Kona had brought his weapon to bear on the last. Between the two, they managed to bring down all of the Guardians before they inflicted too much damage. As it was, Kona simply waited for his shields to recharge, and the human sprayed a little biofoam onto a rather nasty looking burn before slapping a bandage over it. They approached the controls for the door to find the fat human still lying on the bridge, alive still despite his wound.

"Once you're inside, there are four pylons that power the coolant for the reactor. Destroy all of them, and you'll set off a chain reaction. Blow the whole place to hell… where it belongs. If he lets… Alma out…" The Point Man stiffened at these last words. It was readily apparent that whatever or whoever Alma was, it was Not Good.

The bottom of the elevator shaft into the Vault held a rather large surprise for the two. Suspended in the air before them was a large sphere of some unknown liquid. The cold air inside the room led Kona to assume it was some super cooled fluid of one sort or another. But what was it cooling? Neither knew, although Kona had a good guess it was holding Alma. They once more proceeded around, entering a hallway with glass windows looking into a parallel one. Three Elite Replicas ran down it, armed with those blasted effective grenade launchers. Kona watched as the three disappeared out of sight, only to find his companion gone. He looked about, only to see a trail of blood leading down a corridor. Panicking, Kona followed it to find his newly discovered brother standing before a kneeling Fettle.

"Soon I will find her, and I shall set her free." The Point Man looked at him for a moment, then down at the pistol in his hand, then back once more to Fettle. He seemed to say something, just in the way he stood; "No… You won't."

With that, the human raised his pistol and fired a single shot. This shot took Fettles' life right out from between his eyes. Despite this victory, the Point Man seemed confused, as if he didn't actually expect Fettle to be dead. He recovered when Kona stepped behind him and placed one hand on his shoulder.

"For my dead brothers, I thank you. Vengeance has been served, even if not by our own hands." The Point Man nodded, and now looked towards the human female that lay not far from the now dead Replica commander. The Point Man stepped over and knelt, bowing his head a moment before closing her dead, sightless eyes. She too had become victim of Fettles' dark appetite. Kona silently wished her own spirit well; none deserved the fate Fettle had wrought.

The three Replica Elite that had been running towards the pair before now stood, deactivated, silent sentinels for a terror that had once stalked the world. In a bit of deserved prejudice, the Point Man killed all three and stole their weapons. Kona simply checked over his own weapons, and followed after. There, seated on a table as they walked down a new hallway, was a lap-top. The Point Man activated the last program, a recording, and watched. Both of them watched, with mounting horror, as Harlan Wade spoke to them.

"She was a very disturbed child. Terrible, debilitating nightmares. Hallucinations. Hysteria. She never had a chance at a normal life. It was Disler who realized that she was telepathic. He speculated that she was extremely sensitive to the negative emotions of people around her. We removed her from that chamber only twice. She was fifteen when the first prototype was born. She was supposed to be comatose. But she started

screaming when we induced labor and didn't stop until the liquid filled her

lungs. There are plausible scientific explanations for everything that

followed, but I think was really just a question of hatred. It is the way of men to make monsters. And it is the nature of monsters to destroy their makers."

For a moment, they just stared in silence. Then, with a little noise of fear, the Point Man turned and –ran- down the hall to the elevator. Kona almost didn't catch up with the rushing human. As the lift ascended this time, a mechanical arm moved in the large chamber, towards the sphere of cryo-fluids.

"System analysis commencing." A computer voice spoke as the lift ground to a halt. Past the door, they could see Harlan at the controls of the chamber, typing in commands.

"They want to destroy her, but I think she's suffered enough." A pause, he typed away more commands. The fluids broke around one part of the sphere, vaporizing into white clouds of ice-crystal fog, the arm reaching into the mechanical ice-cube.

"We put her in there two days before her eighth birthday." Harlan continued, the arm now bringing the pod out of it's home and towards the group. The Point Man was growing increasingly distressed, searching the door franticly for a way to open it.

"Error. No life signs detected." The computer announced in that inappropriately cheery voice.

"She died six days after we pulled the plug." More commands, the pod hissed into place in the control room. The Point Man was beating on the door in, as if his fear would fuel him enough to break it down. Were he a Lekgolo or Jiralhanae, Kona figured he might very well have been able to do so.

"Release sequence complete." Again, that entirely too cheery computer voice spoke up, and the door slowly slid open to the pod. The Point Man froze, staring at the room through the window. Kona as well, both transfixed by the scene before them.

"This is how it ends." Harlan said, the pod yawning wider. A black cloud began to form around him, the man stepping away.

"Alma… Aaaarrrrgh!" They watched him disappear, melt into that blood splatter, only bones remaining, as a naked human female stepped from the pod. A splatter of blood obscured the window, and there was a flash. Where once only the Point Man had been able to see such things, now Kona saw it too. Alma shifted from her previous form to her "new" one, slowly walking towards them as they lay on the ground.

"Kill them." She whispered, advancing on the helpless mortals.

"Kill them all." She repeated again, then teleported back, and Elder Alma crawled at them in that sideways, crablike, far too fast manner. An ethereal scream echoed, and just before she got them, there was another flash, and the door slowly slid open before them in the real world.

Neither moved, only staring, frozen in place. With a little gurgle, the Point Man was the first to move, rushing after the only direction the ghost could have taken. A set of bloody footprints lead the way, and Kona was quick to follow his companion, not wanting to be left alone in this place.

If the land before had been hell, this must have been the tunnels of Satan's own dark heart. Nightmares, turned real, exploded from rents in reality that even Slipspace could not explain. The dead walked, and conjured forth these terrors. The reactor was reached, both brothers, forged together now in a crucible far more potent then any other war could offer, jittered as they worked the controls, and extended the rods. They fell, the energy arching between the lines. The Point Man paused, Kona looking to him as he did. The human took a breath, and turned to the Sangheili, lifting the goggles up off his eyes. He looked at the Elite, the Elite looked back. No words were needed now; both shared a moment of complete and utter synchronicity.

#Lets send this bitch to hell#

Twin bursts of fire, two grenades from the humans launcher, and a stream of plasma from the Elite's rifle, and the cores detonated. It fell silent. Utterly silent. Then…

With a huge rumbling shake and burst of power, the entire underground complex rocked as if on hydraulics. Both had to flee, and did so with gusto. Emergency lights lit the way, but so did more Nightmares.

They ran, they fired, hoped they wouldn't be followed… More Nightmares, more shakes, Alma was ahead… They didn't see themselves overtake her, but they didn't see her at the elevator either. The Point Man smacked the button, and the lift began to ascend. Going up. Up, out of the ground, away from that… Tomb. Towards the day and the fresh air. Not out yet, even as the lift stopped and the doors parted. More Nightmares blocked their path, but now Kona and the Point Man ran past, destroying or banishing the flimsy creatures back to the nether world. More of the acurst building. The interior of these endless complexes. Kona was about to go mad. He wanted out! He had to get out! He had to escape! One look at his human brother, however, and he calmed; the Human needed the same thing…

Nightmares without end, nerve wracking assaults, never ceasing corridors and shadows… Both were twitching, exhausted, pushed past limits both never knew they had… One last corridor… One last shadow…

Flash.

"I've tried to forget."

Shadows. Nightmares. Fire. No! Not again! Please, not this place again! I can't take anymore!

"I've tried so hard to forget."

Can't go back… Must go forward… Must! Must escape! Must get away! Must stop her…

Oh god… She's here! Of course she's here… This is her mind. Her nightmare. Her prison.

Forward… Her! Shoot! Kill! Stop! Not working? Why!?

Gone? Gone… Where? Where!? Not here… Only fire… Forward…

Again! Shoot! Shoot shoot shoot! Not working! Please stop! Go away!

. . . She listens? No… She toys… Forward…

"You were born here, in this place…"

What's that? Up ahead?

"I was there…"

You… With something… Her! You scream, you die, blood everywhere…

She's there again! Coming towards me! No! Get away! Shoot!

Gone… Back! Die! Just die! Why won't you die!?

Gone again… Closer! Die! Die die die die die die! Please! NO! I DON'T WANT TO GO WITH YOU! GO! DIIIIIIIEEEEEE!

. . . Gone… She reached for me… Why? It looked like…

"My baby…"

What? Child? Fettel? I killed him…

"Give him –back- to me…"

I can't! He's with you in hell!

"Give me back my baby!"

What? Who's this? Where am I? Harlan? Why am I small…

"You will be a god among men."

Me? Why me? What… What's going on.

"Take her back to the vault."

"Nooooooooooooo!"

That scream, I know… It's her… Alma… Alma Wade… Origins…

Mother…

I'm so sorry…

Flash.

The lights brightened, the atmosphere disappeared, only a dusty hallway. Kona blinked, looking around as the oppressive evil disappeared…

"I know who you are..." A voice whispered. But Kona knew, somehow knew, it wasn't for him… A look, and there was the Point Man, sitting on the ground on his knees… Tears rolled down his baklava-clad cheeks. Kona didn't know why… He gulped a breath down, the Point Man, and wiped his eyes, settling the goggles down over them again. He pressed on, more firmly then before. Kona followed, he didn't know what had just happened.

"Human… Brother…" The human paused, and turned to look.

"What happened?" Kona asked, and the human hesitated. He looked down, then back up to the elite. That look was all that was needed.

#I've found the truth. And it hurts. But it frees as well.#

And they pressed on. The human would tell Kona in time… In time…

Out, through the window, deserted streets. Clear sky, open air. Freedom. Kona almost jumped, until… There was a boom. From down the road, came another flash. A fireball rose into the sky, expanding, consuming, growing… The pressure built, and both were thrown against a fence. It built more, and the shockwave hit. Kona knew naught but blackness…

"There he is!"

A rotor-craft, human design. The FEAR agents use them, as the regular craft are the Pelicans. Kona thought this, watching it. He felt a hand in his, a human hand. It squeezed, and he squeezed back.

Darkness…

Light again, the cloud, devastation… Kona was strapped to a seat in the helicopter, Jin was beside him, Holliday was on the floor, and the Point Man rested against the opposite door to the open one.

"I don't know how you lived through that." He said with a note of impressed respect for both.

"Neither do we." Kona responded. The Point Man gave a nod in response. Holliday just grinned, then turned back to the mushroom cloud.

"We still don't know the extent of the damage." Holliday said in answer to their unspoken questions.

"We haven't been able to get through to anyone since the explosion." Jin answered the second set. Silent for a bit. Then…

"What about Alma? What happened to her?" The Point Man frowned; he heard something. There was a jolt, the light went out, and both Kona and the Point Man suddenly knew…

"What was that sound?" Jin asked, both other humans looking to the Point Man. But the Point Man and Kona were looking out at the door, to the naked arm that hauled itself up, then the face…

Elder Alma…

Both shared another moment.

#No…#

Darkness.


End file.
